


Saccharine

by renmyuai



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Baking, Dessert & Sweets, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, cute happy fun times!, got slightly intense but still no higher than a T
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 08:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renmyuai/pseuds/renmyuai
Summary: Camus returns home from a hard day's work. He would have headed straight to bed, if it weren't for the sweet smell of sugar in the air.





	Saccharine

**Author's Note:**

> look, I tried my best to write something fluffy and cute but it ended up a little more... intense than planned. still cute though?  
> bless them honestly~

Camus let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding in as the door slid shut behind him. Another tiring day of work... he loved the fans, but hours of interviews took their toll just as they would on anyone else. He wanted to _sleep._ Slipping his shoes off at the entrance, he yawned and then breathed in sharply, planning to head straight to bed.  


It was his deep inhale that made him realise. Something smelled... sweet. Not in the way it usually smelled; Camus had eaten enough cakes, pastries and ice cream in this apartment that a permanent cloud of sugar seemed to permeate the air. No, this sweetness was _fresh,_ like someone had installed a patisserie during his work hours. He breathed it in some more. It was a nice scent, and moisture welled up in his mouth almost instinctively. Draping his jacket over the coat rack, he made his way over to the kitchen, where he presumed was its source.

His breath caught in his throat.

The kitchen counter was piled high with plates and bowls and tubs full of food. Desserts, specifically. There was an absolute _ton_ of the stuff. Camus walked over and began to peer into every container, eyes wide like dinner plates themselves. One plate was loaded up with small, pastel-iced cupcakes, with sugar crystals dusted over the ruffles of cream. Another plastic tub was full to bursting with what appeared to be brownies, a shiny chocolate crust glinting from inside. And there was a bowl of trifle, and a plate of macarons, and a tray of neatly cut fruit, and...

Camus had to step back for a moment, in utter confusion.

These sweets weren't store bought, or even ordered from a bakery. He could tell at a glance, though it wasn't hard when a pile of used kitchen utensils towered in the sink, a mountain of metals and plastics. This stuff was homemade - _all_ of it, homemade. It was a ridiculous amount, but someone had made the lot. Camus began to furrow his brow, about to think over the possibilities, but as he turned toward the dining room he came to the realisation that he wasn't alone.

Not so much curled up as he was collapsed in a heap, Ren was asleep in one of the dining chairs. He slumped forwards onto the table, head in his arms, silk strings of hair ribboning over his face as he turned to one side. A calm, sleepy smile was plastered across his lips, though his brows twitched in his reverie. Camus almost didn't want to wake him. But he shook off the warmth in his cheeks and walked over, coming to stand at Ren's side and lightly patting him on the shoulder.

"...nn..." Ren shifted his head in his arms, eyelids just barely opening. "...Ca...mus..."

"It looks like you've been busy."

It was as if his memories of the day only just came back to him, and Ren bolted upright in his seat, arms flying up to smooth the hair away from his eyes. He looked at Camus, then looked over at the kitchen, then looked back at Camus again.

"...u-uh..."

"Ren? It's okay, calm down. What... have you been doing?" Camus couldn't hold back a smile. Ren's attempt to fix himself up had only half-succeeded - a few strands of hair stuck up awkwardly on the top, and he couldn't help but find it adorable. Unaware of this, Ren responded, nodding.

"Right, right... well... look, I had a day off, so I... wanted to make you something."

"And by 'something' you mean _'everything'_ , I take it?"

Ren puffed out his cheeks, frowning. Camus wondered if he had always acted so indignant upon having just woken up. "It's not that much, surely..."

"You could feed the eleven of us with that stuff, I don't doubt." Camus laughed softly, shaking his head. "Look... it's not like I'm complaining, you know?" He gestured towards the kitchen. "Why don't you show me the menu, chef?"

"...yeah, of course..." Ren stood up, messily kicking the chair in behind him as he walked ahead. Following him, Camus restrained a chuckle at the tangle of hair at the back of Ren's head, simply biting his lip as they entered the kitchen together. Coming to a rest at the main counter again, Camus looked over the confectionery again, concerned that it had somehow multiplied since he had last seen. Piles of bowls and plates and trays, dustings of white and red and gold...

"Why so much?"

"I... I don't know... I think I went a bit overboard, didn't I?"

"I'm not saying anything." Camus smirked. "No complaints."

"Hmph..." Ren looked away with a huff, but not before Camus caught the hint of red across his cheeks. "Anyway... I know ice cream's your favourite, but I didn't know if we had space in the freezer, so I made a bunch of other stuff instead."

"That's fine. More than fine, actually..." Camus snuck his arm around Ren's, lacing their fingers together. It made shivers dance up his spine, and from the way Ren tightened his grip around him he imagined the feeling was mutual. "Show me something. What do you think turned out best?"

"Uh... probably these," Ren leaned inwards and picked up one of the pastel cupcakes, handing it to Camus. "at least, I think. I mean... the icing worked out really well..."

"You're not wrong." Camus turned the cupcake around in his hand, an eyebrow raised in surprise. It was _really_ well done. The soft, white buttercream - he assumed that's what it was - almost seemed to dance in spirals on the surface. There were sugar pearls dotted around the waves, and the centre was adorned with a single, clear snowflake shape, balanced neatly on one corner. "It's really... really beautiful."

"...course. I mean..." Snatches of whatever Ren was whispering caught in Camus' ears. "...like you..."

"Were you saying something?"

"Absolutely _nothing_." Ren huffed, and Camus pretended that was the truth.

"Anyway... I think they're the ones that look best, but I think... I _think_ maybe you'd prefer the taste of these?" He leaned over, unlacing his fingers from Camus' to use both hands, and picked up the tub of brownies. Camus placed his cupcake back and turned to look, curious.

"You think so? But..." He frowned slightly, trying to find the words. "I mean... you must have tasted them to be able to say that."

"Well, yes."

"Then that's strange."

"Strange?" Ren tilted his head gently to the side, in minor confusion. "What about it is so strange?"

"...you don't like chocolate."

Ren realised what he'd meant, and a laugh escaped him. Camus continued to watch him.

"Well, yeah... but they're not for me, they're for you. And I still hate chocolate, but... they're not very bitter, so it's fine. I just feel like you'll like them, is all."

"Hmm..." Camus pretended to think this over, bringing a hand to his mouth; in reality, he was hiding a growing blush on his cheeks. "I see now. So you think the cupcakes look nicest. And you think the brownies will taste the nicest..."

"Yeah, that's right."

"What if I told you... I think you're wrong on both counts?"

Ren blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?" But Camus just laughed, taking the box from Ren's hands and placing it back on the counter.

"I'm just kidding, but out of all the desserts in this room..."

Camus stepped over, slipping his arms around Ren's waist and resting them on his hips. He leaned himself in and let his lips trail around to whisper into Ren's ear.

"...surely you're the one that looks _and_ tastes the nicest?"

"...god, that's so cliché." Ren complained, whining a little, but a small smirk crept over his own lips. "Surely I'd rather you complimented my cooking after I spent _soooo_ much time on it."

"Oh, the cakes are perfect too. It's just... compared to you..."

" _Enough._ " Ren giggled softly, pulling himself away from Camus' hold and standing back by the counter. "Save it for later. I'll be damned if you don't actually try some of this stuff before the day ends."

"Hmhm... fine by me. I'll just save some room..." Camus winked, swinging his arm in a wide gesture. "I'll have the chef's special to start."

"Look, just go sit back in there and I'll bring you a plate with a bunch of stuff on it." Ren pointed back to the dining room. "I assume you already ate an _actual_ dinner on the way home?"

"But of course. I didn't expect to be met with any of this, so I was just going to head straight to bed, but... I don't think I'm tired anymore."

"Good. Now _go_." Ren mimed a throwing motion as he hounded Camus out of the kitchen, both of them laughing. Camus took no hesitation in sitting in the chair across from where Ren had slept, and replayed the image in his mind a few times. _Adorable._

"Anyway, isn't a chef only supposed to kick people out of the kitchen when he's hiding a secret?" He called from his seat, chuckling.

"Who says I'm not?" Ren's reply danced in the air between them, and Camus imagined the playful smirk he must have said it with. "Just be patient!"

They let the next few moments play out in silence - Camus twirled his fingers together as he waited. Eventually, Ren entered the room, a silver serving dish in his hands and a small smile across his lips. The dish seemed to glitter in the evening light, a well-polished shine over the lid. Camus whistled, impressed.

"You've really spared no expense."

"But of course." Ren was much more composed than earlier - he was fully awake now - and with a quiet hum he placed the dish between the two of them and sat down, fingers deftly hooked around the small handle on top. "A banquet fit for a king."

"Yes, yes... enough of that." Smirking, Camus nodded. "Well?"

"...dessert is served." And with that, Ren flicked his wrist upwards, lifting the lid and revealing the platter of sweets beneath. It was essentially one of everything: one of the brownies, neatly cut into a square; a couple of the strawberry slices, on a tiny plate of their own and accompanied by an even tinier plate of fresh cream; a shot-glass of trifle, with a neat three layers of jam, custard and cream; a couple of biscuits, a pair of pastel blue and orange macarons... and one of the prized snowflake cupcakes, arranged to sit perfectly in the centre. Camus let out a small sigh of bliss.

"It really does all look _amazing,_ Ren."

"Hmhm, does it?" Ren chuckled quietly, smirking and at the same time glancing away, a faint tinge of red returning to his cheeks. "Well... that's definitely what I was going for, so I'm... I'm glad. Mh..." He pursed his lips shut, nibbling his cheek.

"I'm sure it's about to taste just as excellent... which first...?"

"Whatever you w... _actually_..." Ren's eyes darted over the spread, an expression on his face that Camus couldn't quite place. "...just start with the berries. They're the most simple, so..."

"Very well." Camus calmly reached in and picked up a segment of strawberry, turning it over in his fingertips. "Even as simple as this, doesn't it just look... delicious?"

"..." Ren said something in an indignant whisper, and while Camus didn't quite catch it, the way Ren shifted uncomfortably in his seat gave him enough reason to giggle. He let the berry dip gently into the cream, twirling it throughout, and let it drip across his fingers a little as he raised his hand again. Ren refused to look, but he still saw.

"Hmhm..." Camus hummed as he brought the slice to his lips and popped it in his mouth. He swirled it around a little, eyes glinting, and slowly chewed until it was gone. The entire time, he stared head on at Ren, who alternated between a look of bliss, and one of anxiety.

"It's nice, right?"

"Yeah... delightful. Oh, one moment..." Camus pretended to only just notice the cream on his fingertips, smirked, and deftly licked them clean, occasionally making eye contact with the increasingly reddening man across from him. "...there. Wonderful."

"...you're unbearable..."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing! Nothing." Ren huffed, in mock irritation. "Anyway, the macarons next."

"Ah, yes. They look pristine, perfectly shaped." Camus selected the orange one, raising an eyebrow. "I take it we're sharing?"

"What?"

"Well, this one's orange so it's yours, correct? I'll have the blue one."

"...you're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"I haven't a clue what you mean." Camus smiled innocently. "I'll have mine first."

"Then why did you pick mine up?"

"So you can pick mine up, of course."

The realisation burned at Ren's ears, and he held back a groan as he softly pinched the blue macaron between his fingers. Trapped by Camus' request, he forced himself to look forwards as he extended his arm across the table, leaning in for efficiency. Camus pulled himself forwards as well, enough so that the fragile surface of the sweet brushed against his lips. Smirking, he slid his tongue across for a preemptive lick, then quickly parted them and took half of the macaron into his mouth, barely having to bite through as it melted against him. He let out a slightly exaggerated moan, eyes locked onto Ren's, who frowned and squirmed about in his chair, lips parting. Savouring the taste as the confectionery turned to a sweet powder in his mouth, Camus chewed and swallowed, then without delay took the other half as well. In doing so he let his tongue dance lightly across Ren's fingertip, and the hiss it elicited made Camus' heart leap. Once he pulled back, Ren dropped his hand back to his side and sputtered.

 "You're terrible. The absolute _worst._ "

"That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

"Believe me, it isn't." Ren sighed, then clicked his fingers, tilting in. "Mine now."

"Ever so demanding, aren't we?"

" _Listen-_ " Camus froze as Ren snapped, but when he became aware of the way Ren's eyes had darkened his face burned over with excitement. "I am _this_ close. Just let me have this. Then..."

"Then...?"

"Don't make me say it."

"...fine." Camus knew when to hold back. He leaned in and brought the orange macaron to Ren's lips, while he bit his own. But Ren didn't bite - he snuck his hand up to grab Camus' wrist, holding him still as he trailed his tongue over the underside of the sweet. He licked playfully, catching the tip of Camus' thumb on more than one occasion as he tortured, and then suddenly caught the macaron in his lips and pulled his head away, chewing with a greed in his eyes that Camus knew wasn't for the sweet itself. His hand still gripping Camus' wrist, Ren leaned back in, and without hesitation his tongue found Camus' fingers, swirling around them and gently sucking, low and quiet moans vibrating against him - or perhaps his hands were just shaking? He felt like he was slipping away from himself... Ren's mouth trailed itself down the side of his fingers, over the palm of his hand, and in that moment Camus knew neither of them were bothered about the desserts anymore.

Breaking away for just a moment, Ren leaned back and stood up, replacing the lid over the dish. Camus stood at the same time, suddenly aware of the heartbeat thudding in his chest.

"Don't you want me to finish the rest fir-" Ren cut him off with a jolt forwards, and their lips melted against each other. Camus sighed into the kiss, allowing Ren entry as their tongues danced hungrily with one another, the sweetness of them both blending together. That was enough of an answer, but he still Ren's mumbled reply:

"...later...first... _you_..."

And that was that.

* * *

The next morning, Camus nibbled at a biscuit as he flicked through his phone. Ren stood behind him, arms draped over his neck and face nuzzled softly into the crook of his neck.

"These really are delicious, you know."

"Thanks." Ren chuckled. "But let me guess... not as good as-"

"Not as good as you, no."

"Well then I'll just have to try harder next time, won't I?"

"Sure, in a few months - there's enough here to last until the holidays, I'm sure."

"Mmh, but I want to make _moooore..._ " Ren whined needily, rubbing his cheek against Camus. "It makes me happy... to know I'm making something nice for you."

"...love you."

"Mh?" Ren leaned up to look at Camus, who quickly turned and pressed his lips softly against Ren's cheek.

"I said I love you... idiot."

"You ruined it."

"Should have listened properly the first time."

"Jerk." Ren laughed. "I love you too."

They stayed like this for a while; the glow of the sunrise bathed them, and they were both at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> wahey! that's content! look at me, producing the content!  
> as always I hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
